Addiction
by aardvark in mud
Summary: Harry has become addicted...


Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or Naruto or any other published piece in this one-shot.

AN: This has been bugging me to write itself for the longest time. Read and tell me what you think. I seem to be plagued with the same problem Harry does, and you know what? I don't care; I'm here to say I'm addicted and this is my tribute to everyone around the world that is an addict to. Sorry to say, there isn't help unless you want to be helped and it is not a quick remedy- you will be haunted by it for the rest of your life so just accept it, stop living in denial, and move on.

Addiction by Karone Richardson

It was just something to pass the time that summer, I swear. I don't know how it got out of control but I didn't know how perilous an edge I was walking until I was looking up from the vast abyss looking up at the tiny speckle of light where I use to walk. I don't mind that I have become an addict; most people would think it is a weakness or unhealthy and I need to stop but really... I don't see the problem. I don't care that I'm obsessed. I don't care that I have changed. I don't care what nameless people think because I'm addicted and dammit! I like being addicted.

About Ron and Hermione, well I am sorry but if they love me they will understand I'm not slightly them if I would rather sit with the Slytherins, with (gulp!… more like on)… Draco Malfoy. It's the addiction not them.

If you want to blame it on somebody, blame it on Hagrid. He's the one who started it all; although he probably had NO idea what he was doing giving me that catalog. NO IDEA AT ALL! He changed my life. I think I'm indebted to him because without him, my life would be boring, lifeless, and basically the same thing day in day out. My life would be like it what it was when school let out summer last, my mind so filled with guilt for Sirius' death… I don't want to go back to that, ever.

Guys, I think you should at least be happy that I'm happy, right? Is it really too much to ask for? I still love you guys, and no, I'm not afraid or embarrassed to admit it. I've changed. Just accept that…please just accept it. If you want, I can make you addicted to; it wouldn't be hard if you saw what I saw. Think about it.

…...

I don't think no one noticed my addiction until the second day of the new term. It was during breakfast when Hedwig brought me the newest addition. I quickly turned all my attention to what she brought me, tuning out the conversation between Hermione and Ron about what they thought about the newest DADA professor and the rest of the mindless babble surrounding the four tables all excited for the classes they were to take that day and groaning that Snape and Professor McGonagall had given homework respectedly. It wasn't as important as what was in front of me and I ceased to recognize the world as I opened the packaging.

It was until I was done reading that I made a sound. The first thing to come out of my mouth was a series of swear words. I was so mad I could have ripped the addition it half and burn it, of course I wasn't serious, and I wouldn't really have burned it. It got real quiet around me, I mean REAL quiet. I hardly noticed I was glaring at the paper, silently asking why? Why? WHY? had the author done that to me. WHY did it end like that so that I would be kept in anticipation until the author wrote next chapter, sent it to the publishers, and they sent it off to be printed- and I finally got the next issue that was owled from Japan?

Swear words were popping out of my mouth as fast as I could say them, continuing to scream at the author that I didn't notice Hermione getting closer until she grabbed one of my hands I had been waving to the world. I stopped in mid sentence of the insult about Masashi Kishimoto's father's mother's pet's uncle's owner's breeding. She paused as I looked at her, a slight look of fear going through her face as she asked, "Harry, what's wrong?"

I snapped. I told her exactly what was wrong: Masashi Kishimoto is an evil son-of-a-bitch who has the plans to make all of his readers insane. INSANE! I tell you! …. She did not get it. She looked at me funny, the fear had left her face thankfully, and said with a confused tone to her voice, "What?"

I told her again unable to not sneer because she, the cleverest witch at Hogwarts, did not understand what I was referring to and because she was still looking at me funny. She stopped me with the most concerned mother-knows-best tone part way through my chant against Masashi Kishimoto with, "Harry do you need anything? Are you sick? Do you want me to take you to Madame Pomfrey?" She reached to touch my forehead to feel for a fever before she got there, she realized she was just about to touch my scar and stopped. I didn't even notice.

I think my look at her told her I thought SHE was the one that was in need of medical attention. (Upon reflection, I think that was perhaps the last point when I could have been, what do they call it? "Saved." Then again, I was so far gone by the time I had finished the first issue, I don't think by the two hundredth and some-odd that I could have been "saved.")

All thoughts ended though when a voice cut threw, "What do you know? I think Potter is having an episode." Malfoy. Draco Malfoy. I turned in my seat I insult him when I noticed he had something in his hands. Oh Merlin, it can't be… I turned all the way around to get a better look… and it was. How dare Malfoy have that? How dare he? Where did he get it? How did he get it? I want it now!

Malfoy in the middle of another set of insultive diatribe noticed me staring at what he was holding. A brief look of startled ness passed in front of his smirk before calculating eyes look me over. I didn't perceive the change in Malfoy stature; I was so focused on what he had in his hands until he purposely waved it before me and said, "Interested in this old thing?"

I glared at him. He was taunting me and he knew it. He had stumbled my weakness and he didn't even realize he had me exactly where he always wanted me; helpless to attack He was talking to me again but I think only for the effect of waving his hands around, gesturing for the world to notice how my eyes isolated on his traveling hands. His smirk grew even fiercer as he slowly realized he, no… what he held in his hands, had my full attention.

In his Slytherin way, he paused, taking a gamble (even though now I can fully resent how he just knew I was going to cave like he says he did), smiled in triumph, and said, "Let's make a deal."

My eyes narrowed. Damn, I was about to become his slave and he knew it. Damn Malfoy!

He continued, smiling even wider as he said, "If you want this little old thing," he pauses to give the object of my affection a little shake to recapture my attention "you have to come over to the Slytherin table to get it. Stay and eat breakfast until the bell for first period rings. Those are the terms." He left and walked away but stopped, turned and seemed to pause as if to wait for me to catch up to go eat breakfast at the Slytherin table.

It was only then I knew what had been a way to pass time, had become an addiction. Before the addiction, my first thought would have probably to go shove that _thing_ up his arse, but instead my eyes looked away from Malfoy to Hermione and Ron and back and then forth and back and forth in indecision. I was trembling in doubt of what I must do so I looked down and saw what minutes before I had been denouncing. My eyes rose in determination and my decision was made up. My eyes turned backed to Hermione and Ron in apology of what I was about to do. Getting all my stuff together, I took hold of my Gryffindor pride, stood up, and walked over to Malfoy was standing. And we walked.

Through the absolute silence that seemed to rein the Great Hall, we walked. I could almost imagine the images on Ron's and Hermione's faces. I stumbled and Malfoy, the bastard, was even nice enough to wait until I got my feet straightened out again before continuing to what I knew to be my impending doom. We reached the Slytherin table where I had never been or wanted to be in my life, that I had only looked across at for years in contempt. Malfoy told his henchmen to move and sat down. He laid the magazine he had in his hands on the other side of him and started to grab dishes to fill his plate with food. He paused to look at me and said in a why-are-you-over-here-if-your-just-standing tone, "Well, sit down and eat something."

I sat. In the only place available: on the other side of Malfoy and the magazine. Damn! I looked down because I was beginning to feel all the stares of the Great Hall on me. (Again upon reflection I think our first breakfast was one top events between Malfoy and myself even Hogwarts, A History later in an updated version noted the usual specter we presented, I mean who would ever believe Harry Potter, that's me in case you haven't gotten it yet, and Draco Malfoy sitting next to each other for breakfast.) I had to ask the question that had been bugging since I saw the object of my very downfall in his hands. "Where did you get that?"

Malfoy paused in mid-chew, his eyes dancing with scorning laughter at my expense as he looked towards me, and started chewing again. Chew, chew, chew, chew, chew, chew, chew, chew… I had to put a stop to it before I went insane. "MALFOY, SWALLOW OR ELSE!"

Chew, chew, chew, chew, chew, chew, chew, chew, chew, chew…. "I meant it MALFOY, OR ELSE!"

Finally there was a gulp, but he didn't stop to answer before his fork moved to get another bite of food, and he said, as if unable to stop himself, "Or else what?"

I looked around the table to see what I could use for weaponry when I spied the jam. Picking up a piece of toast I laid it on my plate so as not to alarm Malfoy, and picked up the jam and a spoon, dipped and positioned, "Or else you will find yourself covered in jam if you don't answer my question."

"First off, it's not jam, its marmalade." Malfoy didn't sound too impressed on my lack of knowledge. "Second off, you try it and I will hex you into next week." You wish Malfoy! Hah! I could have my wand out before he did. "And finally to answer your question…." He put down his fork and took a sip of tea, a LONG sip so I would know he was messing with me again. "You know how my family is one of the wealthiest in all of Britain, right?" Bastard! Give me something you haven't been spouting about for years.

"Well, let's just say we own considerable stock in most wizarding companies. One of them is a publishing company, Shueisha Inc., who publishes mostly Japanese manga such as the one right here. And let's just say some rewards like getting the newest never-before-read manga issue ahead of everyone else are given to those with a Malfoy's majority of stock." Bastard! It's so just like him to do that. Slytherin! "Now, since you reminded me, I believe I will start reading; with your screaming fit at the Gryffindork table, hardly anyone could read their mail."

With that said he began to ignore me and started to open the packaging and proceeded to look at the cover before opening the booklet. Glaring at him, I tried to move in closer to read but no he just had to move his hands away from me so I can't even read the latest issue of Naruto. I keep trying to get in a position to read as well but I believe all I have to say is one word to explain my frustration: Malfoy. I blame what happened next on him; why couldn't Malfoy learn to share, hmm? Trying to get closer I saw an opening and I went for it.

How did THIS happen? We both froze at the position we were in. I WAS SITTING ON HIS LAP, HIS ARMS WERE AROUND ME AND HIS FACE WAS INCHES TO MINE! BUT…but...but... the latest chapter of Naruto was before me. I looked at it and saw, damn Malfoy, the first page hadn't been turn- he had been mocking me with having me flapping around all over the place to get to it. My thoughts were interrupted by Malfoy's hiss. "What the hell are you doing? Get off me right now?"

I don't think I had ever heard him sound more shocked or angrier in my life and I never was so proud of myself then at that crowning moment, but my reply was calmly stated, "I'm reading Malfoy. Turn the page and be quiet, I'm going to concentrate."

"What?" Malfoy screamed into my ear.

Wincing in pain at the echoes in my eardrum I said as unemotional as I could and pronounced, "You said I could have it if I came here and sat down and had breakfast. It was the deal. AND STOP YELLING IN MY EAR MALFOY!" Well so much for my unemotional ness.

"IMBECILE! For your information, I never said when I would give it to you, stupid Gryffindork! GET OFF ME NOW AND STOP SCREAMING IN MY EAR!"

Prick! When he said that my ears just about exploded in pain. Saying in the most polite form of speech as I could and softly, "That's not good enough Malfoy. You won't share like a normal person and cooperate so I have to resort to desperate measures." If I ever needed proof that I was addicted, I didn't anymore. I was sitting on Malfoy's bloody lap and not trying to get off. "Now, shut up, turn the bloody page, and what would you like next to eat?"

"Wh...wha...what?" The response was stuttered and shrieked. Yes, another point to Potter!

"Breakfast? Want anymore? Your hands are full with the magazine and mine are not. So? Yes? No?"

There was a long silence. The air around us continued to get frostier. (Furthermore, upon reflection, I don't think I heard a noise from anywhere else in the Great Hall besides the beat of Malfoy's heart and the sounds of his breathe right beside my ear. It was strangely soothing.) I waited.

After an excruciating amount of time, Malfoy began with, "I like French omelets- onions, cheese- blue, Swiss, cheddar, mozzarella, avaxtskyr, Cornish pepper, Gloucester, and Monterrey Jack, ham, mushrooms, tomatoes, garlic cloves and chives, five cinnamon Danish waffles dipped in Norwegian maple syrup, Italian bread slices- no spices just marmalade, and I like my coffee dark with a little bit of tea. Got that Potter?" And then he turned the page.

Reading all the while my hands moved for me as my eyes followed the scenes. (Also upon reflection, that was a start of a beautiful relationship.) "A little bit of tea in the coffee, Scar Head, a LITTLE bit." (Or maybe not.)

…...

Addiction makes your life very weird. You stop paying attention to what you did in past like Quidditch, Exploding Snap, and really any other hobbies you use to have unless you work on it. That's what I happened with my friends. They became second to me and for all reasons Draco Malfoy was the one I was seeking out after class. Weird like I said you know. And, right now, I don't know if that is a bad thing or not.

Breakfast with Malfoy soon became daily and then it was just a habit whether or not he was owled the newest of the new never-before-read editions of Naruto or any other Manga like Bleach, Yu Yu Hakisho, Initial D, Trigun, Fruits Basket, Wolfs Rain, Full Metal Panic, etc. before anyone else. And of course we still had our fights: Marvel vs. D.C. Comics- Merlin I never want to get into that again!; what was the better move in Naruto, Rasengan vs. Chidori (Personally I still believe it was Rasengan but no-ooo-o, Malfoy has remained firmly set that Chidori is the better of the moves. Prat!); if muggles can actually draw manga or if all they do is copy styles from Japanese wizards; and etc. But, you know what? I think we have become friends- never in a million years would I have thought that I would consider Malfoy a FRIEND.

Once again, I know I'm addicted. Don't they say the biggest part of the problem is admitting it? Well, I have been admitting it ever since I realized it and I don't think it will ever go away. I still love my friends, the Weasleys are the true loving family I've only had besides Sirius, and I will still sit by them in class and chat late at night in the common rooms and much later in the boy's dormitory, it's just different now. Please just accept this. I love you so much I would even let you borrow all of my magazines (only if you promised that nothing would happen to them on pain of death).

I know you are wondering, what about Voldemort? Well, what about him? I don't care anymore. I mean if I heard rumors he was about blow up Shueisha Inc. or try to take over the manga/anime/comic/cartoon industry, I would be on my way right now to kill the bugger, eyes burning with vengeance. I hate him with everything I have but like I said, I don't care.

Is that wrong? I don't know about that. I feel like I'm finally living for once and not cased into the shadow he has made my life. I'll deal with him sooner or later, don't worry everyone. I swear to my last manga merchandise, even my Naruto/Sasuke underwear-don't tell Malfoy, that I will take care of good old pervert Tom when the time is needed. Just don't bother me right now, I'm reading.

Fin

AN: This is just a one-shot. Just tell me what you think. I may decide to write some more chapters to this but I don't know; I like how it has ended. Also please excuse the lapse of time between the actual manga mentioned and what time the HP setting takes place, about 1997 I think? (I was never good at remembering the years of Harry Potter.)


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